


Thunderstorms.

by Donttrusttherabbit



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Angst, Astraphobia, Erik is a Sweetheart, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, No Romance, Thunderstorms, but there is romantic tension, ultra-brief mentions of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24560026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donttrusttherabbit/pseuds/Donttrusttherabbit
Summary: You are afraid of thunderstorms and try to find some comfort in Erik's lair.Originally posted on Tumblr.
Relationships: Erik | Phantom of the Opera/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 82





	Thunderstorms.

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a Tumblr ask I got on my Erik account, SoErikgoes.

Even though you had already reached the third cellar, you could still hear the sound of rain and thunder descending from the walls around you. Your hands trembled from fear and your heart was beating so loudly that you could hardly make out the sound of your own footsteps. But you kept running, hoping to find Erik in his lair…  
-  
You had been lying in bed already when the storm had started unexpectedly. Even though it was unsettling, the rain hitting the thin glass of your window was not the worst. No, what had quickened your pulse and made your head swim was the thunder. It ripped through the silence of your room accompanied by flashes of lighting which illuminated your room in a deathly shade of white.

So, you ran as quickly as you could. You did not care about your bare feet hurting on the rough wooden floor, all you wanted was to get away. Away from the noise and to the cellars of the Opera Populaire, where you hoped to find comfort.

You made your way to the first cellar, where you stopped to catch your breath. The surrounding walls seemed to shake with the storm and irrational thoughts of them collapsing and burying you beneath stones and beams played in your mind. You were on the verge of tears but kept going.  
-  
By the time you reached the fifth cellar the noise around you had died down almost completely. In its place you could make out the faint sound of an Organ. So, Erik was still awake! 

For the first time that evening since leaving your room you felt calm. His music was beautiful as always, lulling you into a state of content.

You made your way to the stone shore of the underground lake and were relieved to find a small wooden boat tied onto the wittered pole in the water. The lake looked like a dark mirror, reflecting the light of hundreds of golden candles within its black surface.

With shaking legs, you got into the boat, untied the knot holding clumsily, and started rowing. 

The tension of the water broke before you and left the lights around you dancing in the rippling surface. The lake had always been intimidating to you, and although you were well aware that one could not possibly make out the difference between night and day down there, you were sure the lake looked somewhat more sinister at night.

The sound of the organ became louder the closer you came to the shore. Finally, you could also see Erik sitting in front of his instrument, pressing the ivory keys with perfect precision. Even at this late hour he was wearing his wig, although he was not dressed in his usual black suit, but rater in a white shirt with wide sleeves and a black pair of trousers.

You were positive he had not noticed you, for even he could not possibly have made out the sound of the water rippling and splashing softly while playing his organ. When you left the boat and stepped onto the cold stone however, he stopped playing.

The big hall, which had previously been filled with angelic music, was now silent. You were suddenly intimidated, contemplating whether it had been a good idea to disturb him in his work late at night, but one thought of the storm still raging on above ground was enough to fasten your heartbeat all over again. 

Erik turned around to face you and to your surprise he was still wearing the white mask on his face. His features softened as soon as he recognized you, but you did not miss the curious sparkle in his yellow eyes which seemed to almost glow in the light of the candles.

“Why are you here at such an hour, ma chère?” 

He did sound concerned, for his voice was soft and caring, and you wanted nothing more than to let yourself fall into his arms and forget about everything until tomorrow morning. Before you could do anything however, the tears, which had been threatening to spill since you had run through the darkness of the upper cellars, now ran down your cheeks in hot streaks and with one swift movement Erik was by your side. 

He carefully wiped them away with his thumb, his hands felt cool against your burning skin, but not uncomfortably so. He looked even more concerned, almost hurt himself, which made you feel a twinge of pain in your heart. 

“It’s the storm, Erik” You cried, and before he could react you threw your arms around him and buried your face in his chest, sobbing softly. Erik did not respond, but simply wrapped his arms around you and scooped you up effortlessly.

He carried you somewhere, but you did not dare to look up and thus turn away from the comfort of his strong body holding you. You realized he had brought you to his bedroom, because he carefully lowered you onto the soft mattress of his bed.

Immediately you were surrounded by the sweet but musky smell of his sheets.

“You can stay here tonight, ma chère.” Erik spoke softly. 

You flashed him a weak smile and wiped away your tears with the hem of your nightgown. He kissed your forehead gently before turning around, making his way out of the room. 

“Erik?” you called out in a fit of confidence, to which he stopped and turned around to face you again.

“What is it?”

“Can you…stay with me? For tonight?” You felt yourself blush, but Erik just smiled softly and walked towards you again.

“Of course, mon ange, I shall not leave your side till the morning comes.”  
-  
Maybe thunderstorms were not so bad after all.


End file.
